


Fiercely Protective

by afteriwake



Series: The Law Of Disproportionate Response [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Molly Hooper, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Fist Fights, POV Sherlock Holmes, Press and Tabloids, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitty Riley’s back to her old tricks, trying to get the scoop on Sherlock, but she makes the mistake of getting on Molly’s bad side and gets a fist in the face for her troubles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fiercely Protective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WeLoveSherlolly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeLoveSherlolly/gifts).



> So I ran across [a wonderful post](http://shitsquiettime.tumblr.com/post/127120635821/i-think-its-hilarious-when-people-are-talking) about height differences in ships and while the height difference between Sherlock and Molly isn't as extreme as the one mentioned in the original post, the two that caught my eye that I wanted to use for this cheer-up fic for **WeLoveSherlolly** were " _The tiny one is the scary one_ " and " _The tiny one will fucking fight you don’t fuck with their massive teddy bear don’t get stabbed hoe_ ," and then I decided to toss in " _The big one carrying the tiny one away from an argument over their shoulder_ " for good measure. I hope this takes your mind away from stupid idiots with no manners, hun. ::hugs::

He had known, after the flurry of publicity that came from Janine selling the story of their relationship, however sensationalized it truly was, that if he ever embarked on another relationship with someone else the press would give it just as much scrutiny, if not more. There would be rampant speculation, publications vying for pictures, people assuming each and every thing he and his significant other did was there for their utter consumption…and he didn’t want to put anyone through that, least of all himself. So he decided to go back to the adage that had suited him best for so along: alone was best. Alone protected him.

He just hadn’t counted on a certain pathologist slipping past all the defenses and barriers he put up around his heart and making herself right at home there, taking it for her very own.

And so he was left with a conundrum: if he pursued a relationship with Molly, did he do so in secret, and risk her becoming annoyed with not being able to tell anyone other than a select few, or did he make it public, and run the risk of harassment driving her away from him? This wasn’t something he could decide without her, and when they both decided that yes, they wanted a relationship with each other, that they wanted to be more than just the friends that they had been for so long, they decided it was best if only a select few knew of the elevated status of their relationship: John, Mary, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock knew his brother would figure it out on his own, no point in telling him, and he was unsure of whether his mother and father could be trusted to keep news of that nature quiet; he’d have to wait on that.

And so, they began dating.

But they quickly found no matter how hard you try, no matter how sneaky and crafty you are, you slip. A casual mention of a boyfriend here, a late night in a part of London that isn’t Westminster and there’s no crime scene and someone spots you and puts it online there. Ordering a bit of extra food from your usual Thai restaurant, and saying you have a “friend” coming over on a regular basis until the delivery man stops giving you questioning looks and just winks. Getting a knowing nod from the security guard because you spend a bit more time in the morgue office than you did before and you insist it’s because there’s an increase in the murder rate in the city of London.

After a while it’s an open secret: everyone knows, but no one _knows_.

And that draws the vultures. And when that’s the case, he knows who will be around eventually, front and center.

He isn’t surprised to see Kitty Riley at the morgue, to be quite honest. She comes in with a pack of medical students. He missed her at first because it’s a large group, nearly twenty, and she’s in the back. She’s not a ginger these days; she’s bottle blonde, and her hair’s shorter. Chin length bob, with bangs. Looks fake. Probably a wig. Hopefully it’s a wig; doesn’t suit her at all. She’s got thick spectacles on as well. He’d had said something then if it had registered, but he was focused on what Molly was saying about the body she was showing them. The body was his victim that he needed details about, so he decided to kill two birds with one stone: admire his girlfriend’s impressive intellect and skill at her job and learn details for his case at the same time.

The students moved away and Molly went about gathering up her notes and Kitty stayed put and then it registered. Sherlock moved towards her. “What _do_ you want?” he murmured, causing Molly to pause in what she was doing and look at the two of them quizzically.

“I just wanted to ask Dr. Hooper some questions,” she said innocently.

“About the body or personal matters?” he asked. “Get out of her morgue, Miss Riley. She has work to do, and you’re interfering.”

Only then did Kitty turn to look at him. “Oh, like you’re here to get information on a case,” she said, just a bit snidely. “You’re here to have a snog with the good doctor.”

Molly turned a bit red at the cheeks at that but there was a hard set in her eyes. “The man on my table is his latest victim in the serial killer case, Miss…”

“Kitty Riley,” Sherlock said before Kitty could speak. “And she’s leaving now.”

Molly’s jaw clenched. “You’re the incompetent hack who wrote the lies about Sherlock before he left, aren’t you?” she asked, stripping off her gloves.

Kitty huffed at that. “I am not a hack! James Moriarty had me as fooled as everyone else. I mean, he had you fooled for a time, didn’t he? Posed as a man from IT, I’d heard. At least with me I didn’t fall for him romantically.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly as he saw Molly slam her used gloves near the victim’s head. This was a side of her he’d never seen before. He was almost frightened of the rather scary look in her eye and he took a step back. “For your information, _Miss_ Riley,” Molly said, her voice low and soft but very hard and quite dangerous sounding, “I only went on three dates with him. He kissed me once in those three dates. I broke up with him after the kiss because I could tell he was faking. I did not ‘fall for him romantically.’ He used me to get close to Sherlock, which is something I regret. But at least I didn’t try and ruin a man’s life because a two bit actor whispered all the right lines. Apparently you aren’t even a good enough journalist to check your damn sources.”

“Now just wait one moment, you little—” Kitty began, but Molly rounded her table and began advancing on her.

“I don’t know what type of story you were hoping to find here today, but here’s what you’ll get: you try and ruin Sherlock’s reputation in any way, run any story that makes him out to be any less than an upstanding man who is kind, generous, caring and the only man in the world I love, and I’ll personally beat the shite out of you until you buy a full page ad in the Post for a week recanting every last word.” She backed Kitty into the refrigeration unit at that point and stood toe to toe with her. “Understood?”

Kitty stared at her with wide eyes. Even Sherlock was shocked at that. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m a black belt in three forms of martial arts and one of my best friends knows how to kill people and has been training me in self defense for the last year and a half now. Try me.” Kitty blinked for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Good. Now. Get out of my morgue and don’t come back. Understood?” There was another nod before Molly stepped away.

“Bitch,” Kitty said quietly. Molly whirled around and in the blink of an eye punched Kitty in the face, aiming right for her nose. Kitty gasped and then cupped her nose. Molly looked like she was going to swing again but Sherlock moved forward quickly, picking Molly up and, at a loss for what else to do, threw her over his shoulder to carry her to her office.

“Let me go, Sherlock!” Molly said, struggling slightly. Sherlock did not let her go. He turned to see Kitty glaring at them, blood seeping between her fingers. He was fairly sure Molly had just broken her nose. This was going to lead to a _lovely_ story, he could tell, about how he was dating a psychopath.

Ah, well. It probably could have been worse. At least people might be afraid to write trash about Molly if they were afraid she’d beat the shite out of them.

He got to her office door and opened it and then took Molly to the cot in the corner that was there for when they various morgue attendants needed to stay for long shifts or catch quick naps while waiting for long running tests. He sat her down on it and she looked up at him, glaring slightly. He’d had no idea she could be small and scrappy when pushed to her limit. Well, admittedly he’d had _some_ idea; she had slapped him when he was high, after all. But _this_ had been something new. “Did I ever need to worry about protecting you?” he asked as he looked down at her.

“Probably not as much as you did, at least when John started dating Mary, even if I didn’t know the whole truth about her,” she said, crossing her arms. Then her shoulders sagged. “I just went and put my foot in it, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “You did.”

“The whole country’s going to know we’re dating now, aren’t they?”

“Probably.”

“And they’re all going to think I’m nutters,” she said with a sigh.

He grinned. “I don’t know,” he said, squatting down in front of her. “I found it rather attractive.”

She perked up at that. “Yeah?” she said, reaching forward to play with the lapel of his suit jacket.

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “And I think once we’re sure Miss Riley has left, I should take her up on her excellent suggestion of having a snog with the good doctor.”

“Well,” she murmured, using her grasp on his jacket to pull him closer, “why wait until she’s gone?” She grinned a bit more before kissing him, and after a moment he leaned forward, pressing his body against hers. They weren’t going to go much further than snogging while at her office, but he imagined that when her shift was over and he had the case wrapped up, things might be quite interesting at whomever it was residence they ended up at that evening. Quite interesting indeed…


End file.
